At Eight O'clock We Said Good-bye,
That's When I Left Her House For Mine.
She Said That She'd Be Staying In,
Well She Had To Be At Work By Nine.
So I Get Home And Have A Bath,
And Let An Hour Or Two Pass,
Drifting In Front Of My T.V.,
When A Film Comes On That She Wants To See.

It's Monday Morning 5:19
And I'm Still Wondering Where She's Been,
Cos Everytime I Try To Call I Just Get Her Machine.
And Now It's Almost Six A.m.
And I Don't Want To Try Again,
Cos If She's Still Not Back Then This Must Be The End.

At First I Guess She's Gone To Get
Herself A Pack Of Cigarettes,
A Pint Of Milk, Food For The Cat,
But It's Midnight Now And She's Still Not Back.

At Half Past Two I Picture Her
In The Back Of Someone Else's Car.
He Runs His Fingers Through Her Hair,
Oh You Shouldn't Let Him Touch You There.